They had saved forever to buy this, their first piece of "real" furniture. Actually, it was the most expensive thing they owned. The milk-crate bookshelves piled with psychology and genetics textbooks, cheap candles and an old dried corsage looked exponentially shabbier next to the smart design of the couch. Her fingertips traced the bold white stitches edging the cushion. The pale green suede felt cool and smooth under her body, nicely contrasting her husband's warm, work-roughened hands as they caressed her skin. Maybe, she thought to herself, they should have put down a towel.